Bathrooms
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: The bathroom scene from a Game of Flirting, only…differently. What would have happened if John hadn't interrupted their moment? Would they have given in? Just a bit of fun! xx Sherlolly, of course xx


_From a Game of Flirting - the exact opposite of what actually happened, basically ;D Enjoy xx_

"This is seriously the only place you keep scissors?"

They had arrived at the bathroom door. Molly was glancing around, taking in the details. It was surprisingly tidy, probably because John was the one who spent most of time here and actually bothered to clean it. Molly spied the scissors on the side, and picked them up with a sigh. **All this fuss…because of a button.**

"Here," she reached over her shoulder and waited for him to receive them. When he didn't take them, she peered over her shoulder. "Well?"

Sherlock shook his head, which was extremely close to hers, and Molly frowned in confusion.

"I don't need them. I have my own methods," he whispered as he stepped away from her to close the bathroom door, turning the lock. He walked back over to her. "I needed…_wanted _ to…get you away from them. It was unbearable."

Molly's heart was hammering and she was breathing deeply. **Is this it? Is this the moment?** She felt his warm hands at the back of dress, his fingers resting on her zip. He was surely going to tease her, make her beg. Although, his actions suggested he was going to crack first…

"You sitting so close enough to touch…I could not breathe. It is grown rather warm in here, do you not think?"

The hand resting on her zip had begun to play with the zip, twisting through his fingers. His seductive voice in her ear, his breath tickling her neck gave her goose bumps and was driving her crazy. All Molly could do was nod as Sherlock's fingers worked their way down her back, agonisingly slowly, revealing her bare back to him. His hands traced her spine softly, causing Molly to shiver. Her hand had reached behind her to play with his hair, pulling softly when he tickled the base of her spine. Sherlock's other hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it smoothed slowly up and down her arms.

Molly's eyes had fluttered closed as she leaned back until her head was resting on his shoulder, and Sherlock began contemplating if the rest of her skin felt as good as her back, as his hands rested flat against her skin, smoothing circles up and down her sides…under her dress. Sherlock smiled as she hummed softly in approval. **Hmmm, I was correct, naturally. However, it seems there is ****_immediate _****need for further examination.**

It seemed Molly had the same idea as she turned around suddenly, and with a devious smile, placed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. She didn't have much time to marvel at its effect, though, as Sherlock pulled her into a fierce and extremely passionate…snog was the only word for it. It was a battle for dominance; Sherlock turned Molly around and shoved her against the door, none to softly, which caused Molly to give an excited gasp. The movement had caused the straps on her dress to fall off of her shoulders, leaving them bare. Sherlock wasted no time in trailing his lips down her neck, causing her to moan rather loudly. Her hands grabbed ferociously at his buttons, pulling them apart so she could caress his well-muscled chest.

"Sherlock? I'm taking Mary home, you coming?"

Sherlock, who had been nipping at the base of Molly's throat, shook his head. He then remembered that John couldn't actually see him…just as well really.

"Mmmm…no."

"But-"

"No, John."

Molly had managed to work his shirt off of his chest, which was difficult as his hands hadn't left her body. They were still caressing her arms and gripping her hips, caressing and smoothing softly. They heard the soft slamming of the front door and broke apart with longing stares and heavy panting.

"Bedroom?"

Molly raised an eyebrow, biting her lip as though deep in thought. Sherlock wished she wouldn't do that…she has no idea what it does to him.

"Think you can make it?"

Molly laughed and shrugged, her hair bouncing around, the way it did in many of Sherlock's fantasies.

"No, but it's worth a try…"

Sherlock pulled her away from the door and wrenched it open; they tore through the flat and both were growing impatient. Sherlock practically shoved Molly into the bedroom…John's bedroom. **Well, it's the closest we've got…poor John.** She was up against the wall, again, and it wasn't long until she felt his strong hands beneath her thighs, hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him passionately. He shoved her arms against the wall, immobilising her from wrapping her arms around him. He moved his hands up and down her arms as he kissed her anywhere he could reach. The impatience took over once more and, shifting slightly to readjust them, he wasted no time in filling her, moving frantically and fiercely. Molly allowed her head to roll back as she rocked, soft cries of pleasure erupting from her mouth. Soon, Molly was screaming for him and she pushed Sherlock to the floor, joining him, sweaty and breathing heavily as she lie on top of him. As soon as her breath returned, Molly kissed at his collarbone before moving to his ear, grazing it with her lips as she spoke.

"Now, Mr. Holmes, time to give you what _you _want…"

John skipped home, smiling to himself. **Mary's great…really great. I can't wait to see her again. I hope Sherlock and Molly haven't killed each other. If he's mean to her again…I hope she gives it to him. **He twisted the handle of 221 Baker Street and practically flounced up the stairs to flat B. He opened the door and threw his coat onto the sofa. He frowned as Sherlock wasn't in his usual seat. **Molly's bag is still there, but it's nearly 2 o'clock in the morning. Ah, well. **John was too tired, and drunk, to care anyway. Yawning, he trudged to his bedroom and pushed the door softly open, blinking at the sight that greeted him as he did so. Sherlock and Molly were entwined in each other's arms on the floor…of _his_ bedroom, covered by _his _bed sheets. John shuddered as he closed the door, moving to the sofa. **Well, I was right…she gave it to him, alright. **

_xx_


End file.
